


30 Day OTP Challenge - Johnlock (Mpreg)

by downdeepinside



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downdeepinside/pseuds/downdeepinside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I decided to do the 30 day OTP challenge - but with my own little twist! Sherlock is pregnant and throughout the next 30 installments we can learn more about him and John, as well as the family they're about to become.</p><p>Each chapter has an accompanying picture drawn by the marvelous consulting-homosexual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One: Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sherlock, I don't make money from doing this, and even the 30 day OTP challenge isn't mine - it belongs to erincandy on tumblr.
> 
> At the end of each chapter there will be a link to the fabulous consulting-homosexuals accompanying drawing!

“Is it ready yet?”

Sherlock slowly looked up from the small plastic stick balancing on the side of the bath and fixed John with an angry glare. “The pack says it takes three minutes, it clearly says it takes three. It’s been two and a half. So, no. It’s not ready yet.”

John swallowed and nodded, sitting down the closed toilet lid and fidgeting awkwardly for a moment.

“Are you sure you did it right?”

Sherlock once again tore his gaze away from the stick of doom and stared at John, “Is there a wrong way to pee on a stick?”

John shrugged and the two sat in silence for a further nineteen seconds.

The kitchen timer went off and Sherlock shut it down with one aggressive _thwack_. It was ridiculous, really, that after almost a year of sitting in the bathroom together holding hands and staring at a stick the army doctor and consulting detective still felt even the slightest bit of excitement or anxiety towards what the results might turn out to be. They were negative. They were _always_ negative.

Just, there was something about this time. Something that felt… that bit more hopeful. They say you know, deep down inside, you know on some subconscious level. Maybe it was that.

Sherlock sighed and flicked his wrist, revealing the results of the fourteenth pregnancy test he’d ever taken with John present. (There had been that one time in uni without him – we don’t talk about that one time in uni.)

John gasped besides him and Sherlock felt the pressure on his left hand increase tenfold. He frowned and blinked, realising he wasn’t actually looking at the result on the test.

Two small red lines swam into vision.

Sherlock gasped a gasp of his own, and his fingers crushed John’s.

“It… It could be a… false alarm. We shouldn’t get… over-excited.”

“No. Right. Of course, yes, that’s… right.” John nodded a single nod and Sherlock looked up to him and grinned. John’s solemn expression broke and he laughed, releasing Sherlock’s hand and pulling the man into a tight hug that the detective floundered to reciprocate.

“We’re having a baby!”

Sherlock just grinned some more, too excited to mock his partner for stating the obvious.

***

[Consulting-homosexual's work for this chapter!](http://consulting-homos.tumblr.com/post/59313321562/day-1-holding-hands-are-you-sure-you-did-it) c:


	2. Day Two: Cuddling Somewhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I.. well, I tried to read through this. I... ah.

“Fucking,” the sound of the bathroom door being slammed woke John up, “Spawn,” Sherlock’s retching could be heard across half the street, “Of the,” further retching, “ _Shitting_ ,” a splutter and then the sound of the loo being flushed, “DEVIL!”

Sherlock stormed into the bedroom and flopped down into the small armchair John had thrown in the corner months ago. John rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and raised an eyebrow. “Alright, love?”

Sherlock jumped up again and raised both his arms in a stance John long ago had come to recognise as his ‘I’m-not-happy-about-something-so-I’m-going-to-rant-wildly-and-talk-quickly-at-you-now’ stance. He took in a resigned breath as Sherlock began, his voice already several octaves higher than normal and sure to rise as his jabber continued.

“Two weeks I’ve been pregnant! Two sodding weeks – that’s fourteen days – and every single day I’ve woken up to the _simply wonderful_ feeling of having to throw up not only what I ate yesterday, and the day before, and even two years ago at Christmas dinner, but I’m pretty sure a majority of my internal organs! I’ll be shocked John – _shocked_ – if by the end of this pregnancy – hell, by the end of this _week_ – I still have any of my major organs. Yesterday something that looked suspiciously like a pancreas came up and today, well, if I didn’t know better I’d say that was my liver! It certainly looked… liver-y!” The detective paused for breath and span on his heel so fast he nearly flew right back into yesterday, “And then _you_ ,” Here he pointed a slender finger and John, “You just get to lie there, asleep and innocent – oblivious to my suffering! It’s as if you think that just because you don’t have a fertile womb you have the right to… to… ugh! I don’t know! I swear I’ve got baby brain – I read that’s a thing. It’s a thing. I’ve got baby brain. If I even have a brain, that is.”

Sherlock flopped back onto the chair again and closed his eyes, John tried his best to get out of bed without making too many creaks or groans. He padded over to Sherlock and ran a hand through the detective’s curls.

“Listen, I, ah, I know it’s not particularly pleasant and all,” Sherlock scoffed, but did look up to his blogger, “But just think about what you’ve got to gain, hey?”

Sherlock pressed his lips firmly together in a pout and shrugged; now his skin was losing its green tinge from the vomiting he seemed a little calmer. John took a chance and pressed his free hand to Sherlock’s flat stomach, “I know this little bugger seems to have it in for you at the moment, but in the long run I think you can forgive them, hey?”

Sherlock shrugged again, his mouth twisting into a half-smile.

“So, how about you come back to bed for now and rest? I could get you some crackers from the kitchen or something, if you think that’d help?”

Sherlock nodded and a few neurons in the back on John’s mind did a small victory dance. He helped his detective up from the chair and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, “You just make yourself comfy, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Again, Sherlock nodded. He practically collapsed into the bed (though John couldn’t help but notice he was much more careful about how he landed then he would’ve been two weeks ago) and John turned to leave, just as he heard his voice being called in that beautiful baritone that he’d killed a cabbie for.

“John,”

John turned and raised an eyebrow; Sherlock paused and looked a little sheepish for a moment before patting the bed next to him. “I don’t need crackers right now.”

The army doctor tried to contain his ridiculously cheesy grin as he took two large strides back over to the bed and hopped in, rolling onto his side so he could face Sherlock.  Sherlock stared at John for a while before huffing grouchily, no doubt reading John’s mind, and pulling the duvet covers up so they covered half his face; only his curls and mystic-coloured eyes were visible.

“Alright?”

Sherlock hummed an affirmative, though it didn’t sound terribly convinced, and John closed his eyes.

A few minutes later Sherlock shuffled in closer and casually draped an arm over John, his eyes were squeezed shut and it was clear he was feigning sleep.

A further minute and John was trapped in a tangle of his damned octopus-like boyfriend’s limbs.

Another minute later Sherlock shuffled some more, until his head was resting on John’s chest in the way that meant his unruly curls tickled John’s chin. His arm tightened around John’s middle and he gave a contended little ‘huff’. John tried not to chuckle.

“Alright now?”

“Yes.”

***

[Consulting-homosexual's work for this day!](http://consulting-homos.tumblr.com/post/59412266637/day-2-cuddling-somewhere-a-further-minute-and)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :-)


	3. Day Three: Gaming or Watching a Movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pun intended ;-)

Sherlock threw a seventh DVV into his basket and glanced at his selection, satisfied. He made his way over to the counter and handed the cashier the seven pounds for the one day rental. The cashier raised an eyebrow at his choice of entertainment.

“Sir, you are aware these are all only one night rentals? It seems you’ve... got quite a few in that basket.”

Sherlock raised his eyebrows and smirked, “Well, I’ve got a busy evening ahead of me.”

The awkward teenager paused for a moment, clearly trying to put the pieces together, before shrugging and handing Sherlock a small paper receipt, “Alright, then. Those are due back by 11 tonight, sir. Have a… have a nice time.”

The detective smiled and left the shop.

***

John shouldered his satchel and climbed the stairs, greeted by the familiar stench of bleach (Sherlock’s morning sickness) and the sound of his partner shuffling around upstairs. Sherlock hadn’t had a case since he found out about his pregnancy, nor had he seemed particularly interested in having one.

John smirked to himself as he pushed open 221B’s door, the domesticity of it all prompting a “Honey, I’m ho-”

What he found in the lounge stopped him in his tracks.

“Sherlock?”

There was a faint hum of reply from the kitchen but John found himself frozen to the spot, glancing around at the bright coloured objects littering the living room floor. He glanced up to the telly and noticed seven DVDs neatly stacked on top of it – he squinted to read the titles and immediately gasped.

“Sherlock; could you come out here a moment?”

The pregnant man huffed but was almost instantly behind John, his arms wrapped around his middle as he surveyed the mess his exploits had made. “Oh, I, sorry. I should’ve tidied up before you got here.”

John blinked and bent over to pick up a bright pink long… thing from the floor. He squinted at it before turning to Sherlock and holding it barely an inch away from his nose, “What the hell is this?”

Sherlock crunched his nose and batted the toy away from his face, “It’s called a Barbie doll, John.”

John stared at it for a moment before dropping it to the floor and picking his way carefully through the living room littered with trains, dolls, planes, various stuffed animals, and even a few books.

“Alright,” John picked up a DVD and started reading the back, “Alright, I,” he placed the disc back carefully and shook his head, “Why?”

Sherlock gave John the ‘you’re-an-Anderson’ look.  “Because we’re having a child. That’s what children like, isn’t it? Toys and books and poorly thought out Disney movies?”

John pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, “Well, yeah, but, I mean, you’re barley seven weeks along.”

Sherlock opened his mouth, then closed it, then went and sat down on the coach. He rushed a hand through his hair and blinked quickly the way he did when he was uncomfortable.

“I needed research.”

John glanced down at the mess of his home and briefly considered tidying it all up. Instead he sat down besides his partner and the two stared out at the TV. Sherlock had been… rather hormonal lately and John was reluctant to antagonise him.

“Research?”

Sherlock nodded and when John raised an eyebrow he groaned, taking in a breath, “As you might have imagined, John, I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood. And while I don’t believe our child needs to be raised by the book I thought it wouldn’t hurt for them to have toys, and DVDs; things aimed at their age group. Since I’m unaccustomed to these I thought now was as good a time as any to investigate. Carry out a little research.”

John often found himself wishing he wasn’t as used to Sherlock’s peculiarities as he was.

“Okay,” he licked his lips and once again glanced around the room – a small plastic car lay discarded in the corner. “And how’s it going?”

“I think I’ve managed to understand the base function behind all the toys – though the cars have an awful lot of small parts, I wouldn’t advise them until our child is _at least_ twenty. I’ve also concluded Lion King 2 is nowhere near as stimulating as the original; I do, however, need more research into the infant film industry.”

The two turned to each other at the same time and John grinned, jumping into a standing position.

“You put Monsters Inc. in the player, I’ll make the popcorn.”

Sherlock was already half way to the telly.

***

[Vera's work! ](http://consulting-homos.tumblr.com/post/59516250175/day-3-gaming-watching-a-movie-john-blinked-and)


	4. Day Four: On a Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short - see end notes >.

Two glasses hit each other, creating a satisfying ‘clink’.

Sherlock took a large gulp of his orange juice and John sipped at his apple, vaguely aware the last time he’d drunk juice at a restaurant he’d been ten years old. Sherlock’s logic was that if he couldn’t drink John couldn’t drink – even if Sherlock never drank anyway.

“What’s all this for?”

Sherlock haphazardly put his glass down in a way that John was sure would cause anyone else’s drink to spill. “What do you mean?” he asked, with a bat of his eyelids and tilt of his head. John huffed through his nose.

“Don’t play coy; you know what I mean. The drinks, the restaurant,” he gestured to the mostly empty Italian around them (unfortunately not Angelo’s, he was out of town) “The fancy food, the.. the,” he gestured enthusiastically at the centre piece of the table, “The candle.”

Sherlock’s eyes rested on the candle and he shrugged, taking another sit of his juice, “It’s a date. We’re on a date; isn’t that what couples do?”

Food was deposited in front of each man and John stuck a fork into his spaghetti, trying not to look to suspicious, “Well, yes,”

Sherlock nodded and balanced a bit of rigatoni on the end of his fork, staring at in, “Then that’s that. We’re a couple, we’re on a date. End of.”

John decided whatever was happening could wait until the end of his meal.

Sherlock started on a rant about a case from years ago and he smiled, nodding along and wondering who’d be paying for this ‘date’.

***

[Vera's work!](http://consulting-homos.tumblr.com/post/60067784676/day-4-on-a-date-whats-all-this-for-sherlock)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a two part-er. Chapter five will be posted soon after chapter three of When Everything Goes to Hell (tomorrow) :-)


	5. Day Five: Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the date...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said this would be posted soon?
> 
> Sorry.

John pushed the door of the cab shut and was almost instantly ambushed by a full and sleepy Sherlock. His raven-haired partner smiled serenely as his eyes fell shut and his head hit John’s shoulder. John gave him a token five seconds before sighing and lightly pushing him off.

“Come on, then,” John raised his eyebrows and gave Sherlock a look that told him he wasn’t about to take any more nonsense, “What do you want?”

Sherlock hummed and tried to rest his head back on John’s shoulder; when the army doctor deliberately tensed it Sherlock sighed and sat up, resting a hand on his inflated (both by baby and food) stomach and pouting, “Do I need to want anything?”

John matched his partner’s pursed lips and looked at the driver for a moment before nodding decisively, “Yes.”

Sherlock huffed, “Maybe I just love you,”

“You always want something.”

“And wanted to spend more time with you,”

“Last time you took me out there was a heart stuck to the kitchen ceiling.”

“And take a moment to celebrate this child?”

“It wouldn’t come off for days – finally just fell on poor Mrs Hudson’s head.”

Sherlock whined, “John.”

The cab came to a stop (Angelo’s really is just round the corner from Baker Street) and John stepped out, holding the door for his partner. John counted out some notes to hand to the driver and turned back to meet a still pouting Sherlock with his hands on his hips. John scrunched his nose.

“You’re sure there was no… ulterior motive?”

Sherlock opened his mouth and raised his eyebrows.

“No, no, never mind.”

The two stared at each other for a moment, their expressions rather similar to two toddlers whose squabbling had resulted in their mum’s favourite vase breaking.

John cracked a sly smile, “You just love me? That’s it?”

Sherlock batted his eyelids and John stepped in a little closer, herding his partner onto 221’s porch.

“And you wanted to spend time with me?”

Sherlock’s small smile matched John’s.

“And... well, and our baby?”

Sherlock’s eyes flicked to John’s lips as John pressed up against him, reaching up on tip toes until their lips met in a light peck. Sherlock’s smile turned into a grin as John dotted clumsy kissed around his mouth and when their lips met again it was soft, and pure, and at the same time something Sherlock’s mother would have thought only acceptable behind locked doors and in wed-lock.

When John broke the kiss for air Sherlock laughed out a breath before chewing a little on his own bottom lip, “I might have lied.”

John’s blue eyes met his and he made a soft grunt in confusion, Sherlock’s grin widened and his head fell back to rest on the door. “I did have an ulterior motive,” he confessed.

John cocked an eyebrow, “Oh?”

Sherlock nodded, “I wanted that.”

***

My favourite bit of Vera's art so far can be found [here](http://consulting-homos.tumblr.com/image/64215166254)!


	6. Day Six: Wearing Each Other's Clothes

John was woken by his partner excitedly bounding out of bed and loudly declaring, “There’s a case John!”

Within six minutes the ex-soldier was dressed and pouring burning hot tea down his throat.

Within eight he was poised and ready to leave.

After fifteen he sighed, pulled his coat off, and went back up to check on his (worryingly silent) partner.

***

Sherlock was found staring at the mirror, his smart black trousers and shoes pulled on hastily and the dangerous purple shut snugly wrapped around his torso. It was a moment before John noticed the problem, and even then he bit his tongue.

Sherlock’s hands traced down over his (not so flat) belly and he flicked at the two buttons that wouldn’t quite do up in disdain. A small crease formed over his eyebrows as he stared at his reflection and after what seemed like a little too long of both men starting at Sherlock, John cleared his throat.

Sherlock flinched.

“How long have you been watching me?”

His voice sounded a little squeaky but John didn’t comment. He didn’t, in fact, say anything.

“John?”

Sherlock turned, his right hand twisting in the fabric of the shirt as if pure force of will might make the buttons do up.

“John, you’re staring.”

John’s cheek twitched and he glanced away quickly in acknowledgement, a beat passed before he broke out laughing.

“John!” Quickly the few successfully done-up buttons of Sherlock’s shirt were ripped from their homes and the shirt was thrown on the floor. Sherlock crossed his arms and sat down on the bed. John’s breath hitched a little but he continued to giggle and Sherlock scowled, “It’s not funny.”

John gasped and fell back against the wall, “It’s a little funny,” he huffed.

“My clothes don’t fit.” Sherlock grumbled, kicking at the shirt on the floor and looking spectacularly irritated when it stayed where it was.

“That shirt always has been rather tight.”

“It used to do up at least.”

John sucked on his tongue in an effort to not burst out laughing again and marched over to Sherlock’s wardrobe, pulling out a slightly less lyrca-tight shirt, “What about this one?”

Sherlock’s face twisted in disgust, “It’s blue.”

“You look nice in it.”

“Yes,” Sherlock’s vanity appeared to go right over his head, “But it’s blue. I can’t wear blue on Tuesdays.” John bit down on his tongue, _hard_. “Oh, don’t give me that look. If I were to wear blue on a Tuesday it’d be like... you wearing a suit and me wearing that disgusting oatmeal thing you call a jumper. Insanity.”

John giggled again, Sherlock joining in after a small pause. They laughed for what seemed like an age; before suddenly they stopped and met each other’s eyes.

 _Oh_.

***

John and Sherlock’s cab pulled to a stop besides the crime scene and the two got out, Sherlock seeming pleased with himself while John looking distinctly unimpressed. His usual loose shirt and jumper had been swapped for a tight (too tight) navy shirt that was uncomfortable at the collar and long on the arms, his jeans replaced by suit trousers that had to be turned up twice to not drag along the floor, and an oversized coat that was (while ridiculously warm) clearly not designed for him.

Sherlock, while suffering from chilly ankles and the major inconvenience of looking like an idiot, had rather gotten the better of the deal. John’s large shirt and roomy warm jumper hid his bump perfectly while keeping him cosy despite the slight chill in the air. John’s jeans came up a little short and his trainer socks did little to help, but Sherlock was so distracted by the red silken fabric cradling his behind he didn’t mind.

“I hardly think it was necessary for you to wear my underwear.”

Lestrade looked up from his notepad and stared, causing Sherlock to snigger.

“Shh, John. Don’t make a spectacle.” 

***

[Vera's work.](http://consulting-homos.tumblr.com/image/64508663499)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading; comments and kudos are always lovely!
> 
> (Also I should probably point out that, while it is a 30 day challenge, there will not be an update every day. Sorry :s )


End file.
